


Second Coming

by frogsteak



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogsteak/pseuds/frogsteak
Summary: There's a neighbor across the bridge Lea needs to talk to, and he's willing to do just about anything. Even throw a potluck Christmas party for the whole neighborhood.





	Second Coming

**Author's Note:**

> For misomilk~

* * *

After much waiting and scheduling and rescheduling, Christmas was finally at Lea’s place. Nevermind that his apartment was a one-bedroom flat with a kitchenette and a small living room to go with it. They - Roxas, Xion, Kairi, Sora, and even Riku - were all gonna come for a delicious Christmas dinner.

On the morning of first December, Lea rushed outside to put the first Christmas decoration out: a string of three medium-sized Santa Clauses climbing up Lea’s door. He would’ve hung it from his balcony had he had one, the Housing Committee be damned. After a certain incident, involving Lea hanging a struggling life-size Santa Claus off the fourth floor, the Housing Committee had banned Christmas decorations hanging off any balconies, claiming it was a threat to security. Anyone with eyes could see that the Santa Claus was fake. A knock-off in a green uniform. There were still five calls made to the cops.

Christmas had seldom been a time to rejoice. His mother had replaced her cheating husband with cheap wine and eggnog to be true to the holidays. His father was always busy chasing skirts across town, and on the occasions he came by, he’d tempt his ex into shouting matches about good parenting. Lea had found solace by the railway where the snow was rarely pissed on and could be squeezed into balls he could throw at the bypassing trains. Christmas had been redeemed there once.

Lea placed his laptop on his table for four and while he waited for a call from Roxas and Xion he pulled out his box of Christmas decorations from under his bed. They were supposed to be in his storage room in the basement, but it had been easier to shove it under the bed last year.

He passed the grocery list on his refrigerator thrice and each time he stopped to scribble down something he’d forgotten: toilet paper because what goes in must come out, the sauvignon blanc that passed as vinegar for cooking because his friends had gullets of steel and would not be able to tell the difference anyway, and finally, a frame for the picture that had inspired this get-together.

The picture hung from a magnet on its corner, half-hidden behind a bunch of grocery lists. It was a laminated polaroid of two weird looking kids by the railway near midnight on Christmas Eve two decades ago. Lea was gaunt, cheeks red, and eyes wide to fight the flash. He was in his father’s combat jacket, too long sleeves folded thrice, collar up because he had yet to receive one of the four scarves his friend was wearing, and it was freezing cold.

His friend had fuller cheeks, his eyes weren’t sunken but they were crossed. He was wearing multiple coats, all of which were too big and none belonged to him. He had run away with all of the clothes of his visiting relatives and two of his father’s watches because he wanted dog and because he wanted his mother to see the Christmas Tree on Yule Island. Both of his requests had gone unanswered and he retaliated.

Lea thought he’d been talking to Jesus about Santa’s various faux-pas that had cost him the two things he had asked for, a train set and a forever friend that would be with him even on Christmas. In hindsight, it had only been a boy just as lost on the loneliest of days of the year.

“Christmas tree,” Lea mumbled and searched the box for the plastic pot and soil. His Christmas tree was a whole of eight inches, in plastic, fully decorated and in three detachable pieces. It took him ten seconds to assemble it and put it on his window facing the outdoor corridor. Lea’s windows were to look like Christmas windows at a high-end department store once he was finished decorating them.

Lea was in the midst of spraying the bottom corners of his window with fake snow when he saw one of his newest neighbors across the outdoor corridor on the adjacent apartment building. 

Odd man. Never said ‘hello’ when they bumped into each other on their way out to work, which made things awkward when they had to stand next to each other at the bus stop a few minutes later. 

This was his second Christmas here. Lea remembered because he had seen the man at the Housing Committee’s potluck Christmas dinner last year, feasting on the Italian Christmas bread Lea had brought and claimed to have made himself. He always got compliments for it. Little did his neighbors know that it was store-bought bread from the convenience store around the corner. All it took was a couple of extra splashes of rum and a new expensive-looking box.

The neighbor stood outside his door, arms crossed until another man came running up the stairs, then he saw it fit to reach for his keys. 

Lea had never seen the other man before. He was tall, broad shoulders, dressed in a dark, tailored coat that only meant one thing; broker. Or real estate agent. Certainly not from these parts, that’s for sure.

They were arguing, judging by the scowl on their faces and the curt finger-pointing. Lea shook the can of fake snow in his hand slowly as he watched them argue for a good ten minutes before his neighbor crossed his arms, looked down on the floor and refused to say anything else. 

The posh man leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, defeated, and walked away.

Lea stood there, bent over his eight inches long, plastic Christmas tree, partly hidden behind the fake snow, gaping just as he heard the familiar bloop from Skype.

“Hey, Lea, what’s up?” Roxas adjusted the laptop on his lap and yawned.

“Hi, Lea!” Xion flopped next to Roxas and waved.

“My neighbor is in a secret relationship with a broker,” was the first thing that Lea could think of saying when he sat down.

“Which one? The lady you think is married to two men in the same building or the guy you think you saw on Crime Watch?” Roxas asked.

“I hope it’s the lady on the first floor. The one with the parrot. Maybe she’ll finally get to live in a house where the cars outside don’t keep her up at night,” Xion said.

“No, no, not them. My other neighbor. The one across the bridge.”

“The belcher!” Xion guessed.

“The Chinese takeaway at Christmas-guy,” Roxas said.

“Did I tell you about him?” Lea was in awe at his knack for gossip.

“Yeah, last year, remember? You didn’t make it out of town before the snowstorm and the guy across the bridge had Chinese takeaway and you couldn’t find what restaurant was open during the snowstorm and you couldn’t go over and ask because you had glared at him all through the potluck dinner when he ate all of your Christmas bread,” Roxas reminded Lea.

Xion laughed.

“You got it memorized, huh?”

“You live in a weird neighborhood.”

“Or it’s his wild imagination,” Xion said.

“Yeah,” Roxas chuckled.

“Did I tell you the broker is a  _ man _ ?” Lea leaned in to speak in a low voice.

Both Roxas and Xion gasped. Lea lived in a small town with no more than five thousand inhabitants, half of which lived on the other side of the railroad. The other side was an array of designer houses on lush hills connected by an even road for the shiny four by fours. This side  was blocks of council houses surrounding a rundown downtown area that never saw the people in the four by fours, not since their even road got an exit to the highway. There were a total ten people out of the closet, most of which lived on the other side of the railroad. Lea never got more than a date. Probably because he looked different from his profile photo on Grindr, he figured, not enough duck face.

“But, Lea… you haven’t gotten along with him,” Xion said, concerned.

“So? I can make friends. I’m not saying I’ll marry him. He’s dating a broker. I’m not his type, but a like-minded friend living across the bridge? That’d be nice. At least until you guys come back for good.”

“Keep us posted. And be careful. You promised you’d be happy for Christmas,” Roxas said.

“Especially after last year’s Christmas,” Xion reminded Lea.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful.” Lea waved off the subject and reached for his notepad next to the computer. “Listen, I have the perfect idea for Christmas dinner: blood pudding, sausages, oven-baked potatoes and coleslaw.” Lea held up his draft, proud as punch, but lost some of his spark when he saw Xion and Roxas stare in disgust and confusion.

“Why do you hate us?” Xion said, the corners of her mouth arched downward. “We’re getting on a three hour flight for this.”

“What? But I thought you’d love this! This guy at the farmer’s market cut me an awesome deal. It’s organic, fresh - it’s basically back-to-basic cooking. I thought you’d be thrilled!”

“Grossed out, more like,”  Roxas said, unimpressed.

“Alright,” Lea sighed. “I’ll think of something else.”

“Nothing with blood in the name,” Xion said. “Oh! Roasted beef!”

“Or steak!” Roxas suggested.

“Do you know how much antibiotics goes into a cow? There’s not a farm local enough that has drug-free cows around here.”

“Oh, shut up, Lea. You posted three pictures of yourself eating a hamburger at McDonald’s. Their burgers aren’t just hopes and dreams, y’know,” Roxas retorted.

“It’s cow meat,” Xion chimed in.

Hours passed until it neared lunch time and it was time to hang up and go on with the day separately. The small apartment felt empty once the only sound was the buzzing from the computer fan. Christmas couldn’t come soon enough.

-x-

The rum-bread loving neighbor did not cease to fascinate in the days that followed. He still treated Lea like air, caught in his own little world. It was nothing short of astounding how he managed to go about his day without running into lamp posts with his attention on his phone all the time. 

The neighbor kept his hair long. Odd, considering his usual attire for work: formal shoes, formal pants, button up shirts made to measure with cufflinks, coats in a variation of black, brand name stuff. A model, maybe? He did have the jawline for it. His eyes were surely captivating, not that Lea would know, the man rarely, if ever, put his phone down long enough to give his surroundings a sweeping look. 

Captivating eyes would suit him, is what Lea thought.

Late one evening, after a particular long day at university, Lea came waddling up the stairs with two bags of groceries. A light layer of white snow had settled on every surface. The breeze blew cold and had Lea wish he’d gone for the extra-wide and extra-long Gryffindor-scarf to cover half his face with. Instead he had to feel his face numb with the cold.

In the periphery of his eye, he saw his neighbor pace back and forth outside his apartment, right across the bridge. He was in a light, forest-green, oversized sweater. It seemed heavy. He had a gorgeous neckline, accentuated only by the messy ponytail he had put his long hair in.

As usual, his phone was the center of his universe. He stared at it as he paced. Stared, paced, begged. The phone didn’t make a sound and his grip around it only grew tighter. It’s as if the phone was supposed to offer him a life line to reel him into the world he wanted to be part of, but the phone was, so far, only showing him a home screen.

Something must have reminded him of where he was for he looked up, straight at Lea with an expression so stern and angry Lea felt like he had been caught in the sight of a velociraptor. Though chilling, it was thrilling, and as he struggled with his lock and key to hurry into his apartment, Lea cooked a plan for a second introduction. It would start with rum-soaked Christmas bread at the coziest potluck dinner this side of the railway.

-x-

Days went into trying to talk Philomena Fez from 302, head of the Party Planning Committee, into hosting the famous and all-around  _ adored _ potluck dinner of the Polarbear Housing Committee. Lea was running out of positive adjectives to describe the event, but he wasn’t giving up. 

The main reason Philomena refused to plan and host it was because a group of ‘unknown people’ (whom she mentioned by name numerous times) had had the gall to speak ill of her potato gratin last year during the dinner itself.

“Phil, listen,” Lea balanced his phone between his ear and shoulder while he stood by the copier at the university library. “You can’t let them win. If you do, you know what happens? Bad cooking wins. Bad taste wins. And we all lose a jolly good time  _ and _ your potato gratin. Does that sound fair to you, Phil? Is that fair on Christmas?”

This was his fourth take on this exact conversation. It was like Groundhog Day with this woman. But she was growing fond of the idea. This was becoming her battle, and the Lord knew she needed it. With her youngest flown out of the nest, she was restless.

Lea looked at one of the fifty copies of the potluck dinner invitations that was fresh out of the copier while Philomena told him the story of Sally in 503 and her dry cupcakes. 

“It’s like she thinks she’s Arlene Hathersage!” said Philomena.

“Outrageous.”

“It is! And then, she came by with what was left of the cupcakes, which was almost all of them.”

“Of course, nobody likes to choke on their food,” said Lea and pressed the large green button on the copier again. He needed one in color.

“I was nice and took them all and then she went around saying I was the neighborhood Cookie Monster!”

“The gall. First of all, if anybody can compare their goods to Arlene Hathersage’s baked goods, it’s you, Phil, and I think it’s high time you show it.”

“But it’s already too late - the planning, the invitations, the  _ decorations _ ,” said Philomena.

“I’ll take care of it, Phil. Don’t even worry about it. All you gotta do is say the word.”

“Oh, Lea, you are too kind. I’ll make sure to put a good word in for you at the next board meeting.”

Lea won. Philomena gave the word and he grabbed his invitations and hurried back home. The first invitation already had a name on it. Lea was about to find what that name was.

-x-

His door was one like all the others. The one window facing the corridor had no Christmas ornaments, only half-closed blinds. 

Lea pressed the doorbell and stood back, invitations in hand. The door flew open seconds later and Lea found himself staring into cerulean blue eyes, sparkling with joy matched with a smile that died as soon it was clear that Lea was not the expected visit. The sparkling faded into something jaded, reserved and cautious, but Lea was spellbound, his breath caught in his throat by a dawning realization he had only witnessed in movies. In the eye-contact Lea found a connection to the universe otherwise exclusively reserved to the magic that was DMT. He saw everything and nothing at the same time. This transcended the simplicity of attraction.

“What do you want?” his neighbor asked, sullen.

It was a repetition and had Lea not caught the door closing on him, he would have ogled until it was slammed in his face.

“I, uh, I have… we have a party. It’s short notice, but it’ll be lots of fun. There’ll be a lottery with lots of awesome prizes. Just 50 cents a pop.”

“If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”

“I’m just here to sell myself,” Lea said and tried for his most charming smile until he heard what he just had said. “I mean my friendship. I’m not here to sell myself - that’s not - I mean, unless you’re… no! I mean, come to the party! It’ll be a blast. I was told there’d be rum-soaked Christmas bread. It’s a personal favorite of mine.” Lea held out the invitation in color. “I’m Lea by the way. A live right across the bridge. If you’re ever in need of sugar for your coffee or whatever, don’t hesitate to knock on my door.”

“Are you high?”

“Not right now, I’m not. But I’m thinking I might’ve done some damage at some point,” Lea laughed sheepishly. In ten degrees below zero, he felt like he was burning up with sheer embarrassment.

“I’m Isa,” he chuckled and took the invitation.

The world could’ve stopped cold turkey in its orbit around the sun and it would’ve had the same effect on Lea as Isa’s chuckle. Lea grabbed the door for support. Maybe attraction had a little bit to do with this. Isa was the most beautiful man to ever grace his presence and the experience was tying Lea’s tongue into knots.

“Next week,” Isa said as he read the invitation. “I might stop by.”

“Do. Definitely. Ask for me when you get there,” Lea cleared his throat. “I’m the guy with the bread. And the rum. The rum and the bread. I’m the guy with it.”

Isa’s cellphone rang with a shrill ringtone that could be heard from the train station. Whoever was on the other side of the line had Isa shift his attention fast enough to cause whiplash. Without a goodbye, he slammed his door shut, phone in ear, sparkle in eyes and a hopeful smile Lea would love to see again.

“Right, so I’ll catch ya later,” Lea said to the closed door and gave it a wave. When he fell, he fell hard and fast. And something was telling him he might be going for the mother of belly flops on this one.

-x-

The venue for events and festivities was a large one-floor building in the middle of the parking lot across from where Lea lived. It was frequently used by the several families that lived in the area for birthday parties, PTA meetings, cook-offs and, of course, the jewel of events which was The Polarbear Bakes Event; the brain-baby of Arlene Hathersage. It was a complete rip-off of The Great British Bake Off, but no one said anything to not ruin the event that gave many a reason to socialize. 

Since Arlene had been voted into the Housing Committee, Lea had had known nothing but trouble. Lea attributed Arlene’s foul attitude toward him to close-mindedness, but Roxas argued that it had something to do with the three times Lea accidentally damaged her car and barely apologized.

Philomena looked at the venue in awe when she came for the inspection. Lea had done all the decorating and the table placing and the table setting. He had even contributed a piñata with Xion’s help.

“Lea, this is magnificent!” Philomena said, hands over her mouth. “Is that Yankee candles?” Patricia whiffed the air for the scent of cinnamon and oranges.

“Absolutely, it is,” Lea lied. Kairi had elevated the scent of Yankee candles to the high heavens, leading Lea to think that maybe there was a reason people bought them for a leg and an arm. After a whiff, Lea had gone straight for the generic ones and filled a basket.

Neighbors started to pour in at six o’clock sharp. Everyone came carrying pots and pans covered in foil and left their contribution on the long table covered in a red table cloth.

“Beautiful,” Lea heard some of the neighbors comment as they walked in. “They’ve really outdone themselves.”

A jazzy instrumental Christmas mix Lea had found on an old burned CD played softly in the background, people mingled and Philomena was all-around delighted. The atmosphere had never been better. Too bad it didn’t last very long. The doors in the foyer slammed open followed by the warrior cries of little boys. 

There was no mistaking it when Arlene came through the door. Her three rowdy sons came barging in first with her following close behind and scolding them through her teeth. Devilspawn. Those kids had covered Lea’s front door and two windows in eggs and toilet paper these past two Halloweens. Probably on Arlene’s orders.

Once Arlene had gotten her boys in order she hurried back outside and ordered three men inside, carrying large boxes.

“Be careful with those!” she urged them and followed them to the table, pointing and ordering. The boxes they didn’t empty, they put under the table.

Arlene had been upset at finding out about the potluck dinner. She had to overshadow everyone else with spectacular desserts that put everyone’s dishes to shame. Even with only a week at her disposal, it seemed like she would win this year too. The men assembled a four-storey white and red cake with decorations in gold. Each storey of the cake had small, transparent sugar sculptures, angels with sacks full of gifts. She had done them herself, of course. 

Lea rolled his eyes at hearing her tell her cake story to the awestruck crowd. He looked for his Christmas bread to make sure it was easy to find. Lea could also spin a yarn about the hardships of putting this event together on such short notice, but he’d let his neighbors do that for him. Subtlety was perhaps an attribute Isa could appreciate.

Two hours in, Lea was getting worried. He paced outside the entrance to avoid his oddly talkative neighbors. On any other occasion, he would’ve been thrilled to hear his neighbors urge him to run for a spot in the Housing Committee, but all he wanted right now was for Isa to get himself from the fourth floor down here.

Lea had to fight the instinct to run up to Isa when he saw him cross the parking lot. Then Lea waved eagerly and winced at himself. 

Isa didn't wave back.

“Is there any bread left?” he asked as he walked by Lea.

“Y-yeah.” Lea hurried after him. 

Isa’s voice was thick, his eyes looked red and swollen and he kept on snivelling. Once he had a slice of the rum-soaked Christmas bread in his hand he took a large bite and gave the taste a small nod of approval. Even with the array of tables and gorgeous table setting, he didn’t move from the buffet table.

“You were stingy with the rum,” Isa said and took another slice.

“You’re not gonna sit down?” Lea looked at him intently. Isa had been crying.

“In a minute.”

After his third slice, Isa took a plate and slowly made it down the table, taking bits and pieces from whatever looked tempting enough. Lea followed his every step, marvelled at his every move and the sullen look on his face. Whenever a leftover sob escaped Isa, he coughed and snivelled to hide it. 

They sat down at a table in a corner where some neighbors had left their plates to dance. Lea put the plates on a table nearby before seating himself next to Isa.

Isa ate in silence. Silence was never a good sign. Silence was punishment or the calm before the storm. Right now, it was torture.

“Look, I know we barely know each other, but I’ve been told I’m a good listener and something tells me you’re not feeling very good right now.”

“How astute of you to notice.” Isa had shuffled his food to one cheek to talk and forced a sardonic smile at Lea.

“Right.” Lea rose to his feet to leave. He had promised his friends he would do his best to be happy for Christmas and it was a promise he intended to keep, gorgeous neighbors be damned.

“Wait!” Isa got a hold of Lea’s belt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It... I’m not good with feelings. So, please...” He gestured to Lea’s seat.

“Apology accepted.” Lea sat down again. He watched Isa build something akin to a fortress out of the mashed potatoes on his plate while they sat in silence once more

“My date cancelled,” Isa admitted at last. “He cancelled tonight, Christmas and maybe New Year’s, too…” Isa cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…”

“Your date, is it that big silverfox?”

“I didn’t think you could see through all that fake snow on your windows.”

“I can see just fine, thanks.” Lea had caught the small mocking tone in Isa’s comment.

“And the lighting in your left window? Is it a Christmas tree or are you signaling to ships at sea?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve won awards for my window decorations. I was even an honorable mention at the Polarbear Bakes event for my creative decorating skills.”

“Did you do all the decorating for this?” Isa asked with a small smile.

“I did, actually,” said Lea, arms crossed.

“It looks pretty.”

“Thanks.” 

Now Lea was the one with a sullen look.

“Lea,” Isa chuckled and placed a hand on Lea’s crossed arms. “I’m sorry. I’m just joking with you. Your window decorations look very nice.”

“Nice?” Lea nearly gaped. Nice is what’s in the criteria for the winner of bronze at the Polarbear Bakes Event. Just about synonymous with  _ adequate _ .

“Beautiful. They look beautiful,” Isa corrected himself. He cleared his throat. For a second, he seemed at a loss, but regained his composure. “I’m gonna go. I’ll just end up with my foot lodged in my mouth if I stay - tends to happen - and this seems like an important night to you, so… thanks for inviting me. The Christmas bread was very nice. Good, I mean. Delicious.” Isa stood up, and, as if he couldn’t help himself, added, “Could’ve used a splash more rum, though.”

He excused himself and disappeared into the crowd.

Part of Lea wanted to run after him. Xion called that part the “puppy part” and told Lea that, much like a puppy, it needed discipline and not enabling. She was right. Lea gave too much too soon and always ended up playing the stepping stone. Theoretically, he knew this and it was clear what he needed to do to break from the puppy in him and grow up. 

Yet, ten minutes later, when it was certain that Isa had gone home, Lea walked outside to see the gentle snowfall. The puppy part urged him to go upstairs and bring Isa back to the party. He knew what it was like to be alone on Christmas.

A hop and a skip from the entrance, Lea spotted Isa on a bench under a naked tree. Isa stood up and paced, as he did when restless. This time he wasn’t holding his cellphone.

“Hey,” Lea walked up to him. “Are you alright?”

Isa stood up, lips pursed. He held an empty bottle of Amaretto liqueur between slender fingers. The red sparkly bow around the bottleneck screamed Arlene Hathersage. It slipped from Isa’s grasp and broke into two pieces on the wet asphalt.

Isa stifled a sob.

“C’mere, you.” Lea brought him in for one of his life-saving hugs.

“We fought… and without thinking, I stormed out after him and… I locked myself out…” Isa explained past sobs. “It’s been a horrible week.”

“I know,” Lea said, softly.

“It was the exact same last year. I ended up alone, eating Chinese takeaway. And look at me now. I’m a mess. Drunk on candy liqueur.”

“There, there.” Lea held Isa tight in his arms. “Did he say why? Maybe not knowing is making it worse.”

“He was gonna celebrate it with his wife and kid,” Isa mumbled and snivelled.

“Well, wow… that’s… that’s, y’know. Did you know? About the wife and the kid?”

“Not at first, but, I was new in town and he’s a bit older, more experienced, and my boss, so… it was nice having someone I could depend on.”

“So, like, shit just right where you eat?”

“What?” Isa laughed.

Lea stood back to get a proper look at Isa and reached him a napkin he had in his pocket.

“I didn’t take you for a trouble seeker.”

“I don’t look for trouble, trouble comes to me. I’m a trouble magnet.”

“Listen,” Lea began and took a deep breath. “I’ve got some rum left over and Mario Kart. We can hang out while we wait for the janitor to unlock your door. He was pop-locking in there last I saw him, so I’m thinking it’ll be a while.”

Isa laughed again and wiped his eyes like he didn’t want to smudge his mascara.

“Let’s go then.”

Lea’s heart pounded hard in his chest as he unlocked his front door and invited Isa in. There was no reason to be this nervous, he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of someone’s inebriated state to bump uglies. It didn’t ease the pounding in his chest though. 

Isa looked around and stopped by a stack of DIY magazines Lea had left on the table and flipped through them. The odd man who usually ignored him stood in his apartment, interacting with his stuff, making himself a part of this place. Lea’s imagination was running wild, wedding bells sounding in the back of his head.

After downing four welcome drinks like water, Isa sat down right next to Lea, nursing a fifth drink and a piece of rum-bread while Lea got the game started.

“Here,” Lea said and held out one of the two controllers while cheerful music played in the background.

Lea gave the controller a shake when Isa didn’t take it and finally had to turn to face Isa to see what he was doing.

“You didn’t invite me up here for Mario Kart,” Isa said and finished the last of his drink. He placed the glass and the piece of bread on the coffee table and sat back to lean closer to Lea, placing a hand on his knee. “That’s code for something else, isn’t it? In dork language?”

“Uh,” Lea gulped. He felt a blush coming on, spreading from his toes upward. “That, um, you’re thinking of Netflix. Th-that’s code. But, not, not Mario Kart. I don’t even have Netflix.” Lea chuckled nervously and sank back into the couch when Isa nuzzled his neck.

“I can’t have it on my TV because I don’t have the proper equipment and my laptop c-can’t handle Netflix. It can barely handle Wo- Jesus!”

Lea jolted onto his feet when Isa ran his hand down his inner thigh and nearly cupped him. Isa giggled and fell down onto the couch without Lea’s support.

“Listen, it’s almost Christmas and if we wanna wake up to hard gifts under the tree, we have to be nice and, and this can’t happen.” Lea paused. “Electronics, I mean.”

“Are you religious, Lea? Do you have to confess your sins after a wank?”

“I’m not,” Lea sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “But, listen, you’re drunk.”

“Drunk?!” Isa asked aghast and managed to sit himself up.

“And loud.”

“I’ve never had to work this hard to get into someone’s pants,” Isa muttered, incredulous.

“Sorry, you’re working hard? You insulted my Christmas window, the rum-soaked bread -”

“It was not soaked.”

“It was plenty soaked. You drank  _ Arlene Hathersage’s _ liquor and God knows who that was for - who do you reckon will get the lashings when they find out? Yours truly.”

“The window does look good, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Lea sighed and pinched his nose to collect himself. “I thought you were sad about your boyfriend.”

“I am sad, but mostly I’m horny, and I thought that you, with how you ogle me, would be interested.”

Isa unbuttoned his shirt enough to pull it down his shoulder and shook his head for his bangs to fall over half his face. “How about now?”

Lea was only human. The sight was enough to get him hot and bothered, and it triumphed over the amusement at the sight of Isa biting his lower lip for effect.

“I’ll ride you into the sunset,” said Isa in a low, husky voice.

Again, Lea was only human. His first stifled laugh startled some of the drunk out of Isa, the second and insistent laugh brought the sullen look back that only deepened when Lea flopped down next to him, shoulders shaking.

“You’re incredibly rude,” said Isa, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry,” Lea wheezed.

“Hey,” Isa said softly as Lea’s laughter turned to chuckles. “Would you kiss me if I wasn’t drunk?”

Lea glanced at Isa knowing full well that whatever face Isa was making would go with his soothing and gentle voice. His ears burned by the time their eyes met. It made sense now that Isa had wiped his tears the way he had, his eyelashes were full, curled to perfection, and framed the skies in his eyes, and surely, no other product than top shelf mascara had that effect?

Lea nodded with the eagerness of a bobblehead on rough terrain.

Isa flew off the couch, his shin catching the side of the coffee table with a dull thud.

“Fuck,” he muttered and hopped to the refrigerator.

Lea had only half-turned around when Isa pulled a carton of pineapple juice and closed the refrigerator. A gulp or two in, Isa froze and seemed entranced by something on the refrigerator door.

“What the hell?”

“What?”

Isa must have pulled a magnet off because Lea’s grocery lists fell to the floor.

“This,” he said once he turned around and held it out when Lea approached him.

Lea smiled at the picture of him as a gaunt kid, grinning alongside the other kid in at least four layers of clothing.

“Are you a stalker or something?” Isa asked, attention darting from the picture to Lea and back again as if he expected the picture to change.

“A stalker? Are you serious?” Lea wasn’t sure whether to laugh.

“Why do you have this picture if you aren’t?”

“It’s mine, I got it from a friend.”

“So if I go back home and dig through my stuff, I’d still find this picture?”

Lea gaped.

“You have the other picture?”

“What do you mean ‘other’? There’s only one!” Isa stomped his foot, the pineapple juice sloshed in the carton.

“No, there’s two. I got this one because you,” Lea smiled again, “you’re cross-eyed here. See? The flash got you, remember?”

Isa looked at it closer as he licked leftover juice from his lips nervously.

“But, that means… that means that this is you?” Isa pursed his lips again and put the juice away to hold the picture with both hands as he looked at it.

“You got it laminated,” Isa’s voice was thick. “Good because I might cry all over this.”

“Please don’t. You’ll make me cry.” Lea cleared his throat and busied his hands by pulling his pants up.

Isa leaped into Lea’s arms and hugged him tight, face neatly tucked against the nook of Lea’s neck.

“I searched everywhere for you, you dick,” Isa said softly. “I put out wanted signs, I spent time by the railway, I even went to file a report with the police. Had to steal all the files I could get my hands on when they refused to help me.”

Lea laughed heartily, tears from just seconds before ran down his face, and he clung onto Isa for support at imagining the kid on the picture walking around a police office, unsupervised, to find anything that would be valuable to the officers who had slighted him.

“I’m glad it’s funny to you,” Isa said dryly. “I got into a world of trouble for it.”

“I’m sorry,” Lea managed to say.

“Wanna go outside and build a snowman for old time’s sake?” Isa asked.

“You don’t wanna keep an eye out for the janitor?”

“I could come back here if we miss him…”

Lea held Isa in silence for a bit. He ran his thumb over his shoulder, suddenly aware that Isa hadn’t buttoned up his shirt and left his shoulder bare.

“Okay.”

“Sorry I got drunk,” Isa leaned back enough to face Lea.

“That’s okay, you’ve got stuff‒”

Isa pressed his soft lips against Lea’s and smiled at the brief wide-eye look.

“I’m not anymore,” Isa said reassuringly.

“That’s even better… m-much better, because I said, y’know, as long as you weren’t drunk, or I mean, if you got out of it, I’d, I’d,..”

“You talk a lot,” Isa chuckled.

“My hands are sticky,” Lea admitted sheepishly. “That snowman building’s happening, right?”

“Doesn’t have to, I’m flexible.”

Lea chewed on his upper lip and tapped his toes against the floor.

“I don’t wanna be a rebound,” Lea said at last and studied Isa’s face to anticipate his reaction.

“Alright,” Isa said after a pause. “That’s fair, but… I’d still like to claim the kiss you promised me before. After that, I’ll get us purity rings.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

Lea tried to shake his way out of the embrace but Isa clung onto him.

“Sorry,” he said in an earnest tone. “I’m sorry. I’m really not good with tackling feelings head on and your honesty caught me by surprise. I agree. Let’s take this slow. I’ll be your boyfriend if you’ll be mine.”

“Just a couple of minutes ago you thought I was a stalker. You don’t wanna get to know each other first?”

Isa raised his eyebrows.

“So you want dates, the dinners and the wine‒”

“‒and the hanging out, and the cuddling, and the nicknames.”

“Christ…” Isa sighed. “I just want you to know that I’ve never, ever put this much effort into anybody. I’m the one who gets wined and dined and ogled and chased, so you better be faithful.”

“The faithfulest. Scout’s honor,” Lea smiled. “Pickles.”

“You take that back right now or I will leave with your gaming console and any other geeky stuff I can get my hands on.”

Lea laughed and found, in his amusement, the courage to bring Isa close for a kiss hot enough to keep them warm for a while.

They stumbled outside into the quiet night like eager children. The party was a distant murmur. No one was around to hear them banter as they built a snowman as tall as Lea; they were alone in the world like on that fateful Christmas two decades ago, not because they’d been put aside by loved ones but because there wasn’t room for anyone else in the world that emerged between them as they played like they had then.

  
  



End file.
